


The other reason

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [27]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post 8x3, Post War, Season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 19:09:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18644302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: With the war over, Brienne wonders if Jaime will leave Winterfell... and her. A conversation ensues after the celebration dinner.





	The other reason

_I came to Winterfell because…_

All Brienne did since morning was mull over these words and their possible implied meaning. The war had ended and the ghosts had vanished, leaving her for the first time with a faint glimmer of hope that she could have a future, a dream for sunnier days to come. The two people dearest to her stood alive and well, and Brienne couldn’t ask for more. But she had not yet had an opportunity to speak to Jaime. Her mind now free of other cares, she went back to their conversation in the training yard that day. Why had he left the sentence unfinished? He rode North to play his part in the fight, there was no doubt about that, but was there more to it? Did it have anything to do with her? Would it be naive on her part to jump into such a conclusion without him clearly saying anything about it?

So muddled her mind was with such thoughts, that the celebration dinner failed to interest her, seeming more like a chore and a duty to be performed than anything else. More than once, her eyes darted towards Jaime who seemed to be deep in conversation with his brother. She chose to observe him from afar, not wanting to interrupt a moment of peace and quiet between the brothers. She sat in a corner, staring at her food when she wasn’t glancing at Jaime. Everyone around her was eating and drinking and dancing, making the most of this rare happy night in their lives. She, on the other hand, was far too preoccupied with her thoughts to engage in any revelry. Podrick, with her permission, had decided to spend the night in the company of a girl he’d met a few hours before the commencement of the battle, leaving her to her solitude.

As the crowd thinned, she noticed that she was among the last in the hall. With Jaime still busy with Tyrion, she thought it best to retire to her chambers. Back in the safe haven behind her shut doors, she took off her armour and was about to call it a night, when there was a knock on the door.

“Ser Jaime.” Surprised to see him here at such a late hour, she didn’t know what to say.

“Can I come in, Ser Brienne?” he asked when she simply stood there, staring at him. He seemed slightly flustered, though why, she couldn’t fathom.

She stepped aside to let him in, motioning to him to have a seat on the bed. Perching beside him, she maintained a safe distance, a bolt of tension and uneasiness shooting through her as she decided to steer clear of his all-perceiving eyes.

“You left the hall without speaking to me,” he began, his demeanour awkward and his tone mildly accusatory. “May I ask why? Have I done anything to offend you, my lady?”

“Quite the contrary, Ser Jaime,” she made an attempt to clear his misunderstanding, “I’m privileged to have fought beside a battle commander as skilled as you.”

There came a little smile on his lips. “You watched my back,” he said, his eyes piercing hers.

“So did you.”

A tense moment of silence passed after which they both spoke at once.

“Ser Jaime--”

“My Lady--”

“You first,” Jaime insisted.

“I was wondering--” she was in two minds whether to ask him or not “--when will you be going back?”

He looked surprised. “Going back?”

“Won’t you?” she asked, hoping she was wrong. “You came to Winterfell to fight for the living, and now we’ve prevailed. I take it that you wouldn’t stay here any longer so--”

Jaime nodded slowly. “You’re right, I don’t intend remaining here--”

“Are you leaving soon?” she blurted out, her heart heavy, her chest beginning to throb with a dull ache.

He studied her face carefully, and she had to try hard not to wear her emotions in her eyes. “It depends,” he answered cryptically.

Her heart sank deeper, the last vestiges of hope in her slowly ebbing away. “On what?”

“On how soon my purpose here is achieved.” Before she could interrogate him further, he went on, the unrest on his face more evident now. “My lady, I came here for a purpose, I--” he faltered, his eyes dropping to the bedspread.

“I know, to do your bit for mankind, to--” She stopped talking the moment he looked up at her. Something in his eyes told him that her assumption wasn’t perhaps entirely wrong, that he… but she decided not to get her hopes too high, for being mistaken about his feelings would leave her nursing a heartbreak, one that she wasn’t ready for, not after Renly.

“Yes, the war was one reason,” he told her, his tone soft and the look in his eyes tender, “but there was another.”

She waited, unwilling to jump into conclusions, though his eyes seemed to offer an answer to every question she had and allay every doubt that clouded her head. He said nothing, but his palm was on her hand.

She pressed her lips together nervously, his touch wiping away her ability to think and reason. “Ser Jaime--”

“I think you know what I mean, Brienne,” he whispered, increasing the pressure on her hand.

She was still unable to believe him. “I never thought you’d want me,” she said, reminded of every other man who had shunned her in the past, “that any man would want me--”

“Of course, I want you,” he said fiercely, bringing her hand to his lips. “I've wanted you more than _any_ other woman in my life.” He emphasized on _any,_ a doubtless indication to her that he no longer loved Cersei. “I came to Winterfell because of you, and it would break my heart if I have to leave without you. May I request the pleasure of your company for tonight,” he asked, kissing her fingers seductively, “and for the rest of my life, my lady?”

Unable to believe her ears, she broke into a smile. Then she did what she’d never thought herself to be capable of. Pressing her lips to his in a fit of impulse, she kissed him. A moment later, she drew away, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I beg your pardon, that must’ve been terrible--”

The next second, she was in his arms and his mouth was on hers, the experience nothing like she’d ever felt before. He smelled of sweat and fur and leather and smoke, and… Gods... he smelled and felt like a man! His lips more intoxicating than the choicest wines of Westeros, and his tongue sweeter than the sweetest nectar, it was a wonder she was still in her senses when he let go of her.

“It comes with practice,” he teased, throwing her a playful wink. “With your consent, I’d gladly teach you, my lady.”

He captured her lips again, marking the beginning of what promised to be the best night of her life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and do let me know if you liked it.


End file.
